by Latife Tekin
For some time afterwards Atiye slunk guiltily about the house, not even opening her mouth to tell Dirmit to get out of her way. She still kept track of her daughter’s sluggish movements, however, with stealthy glances from beneath her eyebrows. Finally she entrusted her daughter to God and let her be, turning her attention instead to Mahmut. ‘Mahmut, Mahmut,’ she repeated all day long, thumbing her prayer beads and weeping because he was intent upon disgracing her father’s name. Pouting, she complained that no one except her cared enough about Mahmut to protect him. When she saw her son coming and going with a box full of books her heart was drained dry. ‘My heart!’ she exclaimed so often that Halit was moved to go hunting for Mahmut. ‘Let me be an elder brother to him too!’ he declared. Halit grew bone tired walking past all the cinemas he knew of, trying all day long to track his brother down, but he never found Mahmut. Instead, in a distant area, he came upon a boy called Bil Kit in front of a huge gate, who wore two toy guns in his belt and a cardboard mask on his face. A cigarette was dangling from his lips.
Halit stepped up to the boy, ripped off his mask and pulled him aside by his arm. Bil Kit punched Halit in the stomach and, when Halit backed off a few steps, pulled one of his guns from his belt, his face breaking into a wide grin as he tossed it to Halit. In a rage, Halit hurled himself at Bil Kit, knocking him flat. With Bil Kit laid out on the ground, Halit placed his foot on his belly and commanded, ‘Let’s go home, man!’ After Bil Kit had stacked the books in their box and set his mask and guns on top of them, Halit hugged the box with one arm, grasped Bil Kit with the other and dragged him back home. When Atiye heard that her son, who had always left in the morning and slipped back wordlessly in the evening, had turned up as Bil Kit, she wailed, ‘What’s wrong with choosing my father’s name?’ and started to weep. Slamming his green books shut, Huvat lunged at Mahmut, demanding to know what he was supposed to say if he were asked in the netherworld, ‘So you have a son called Bil Kit?’ When Mahmut leapt up onto the divan, Halit stood in front of Huvat, informing his father that he was responsible for Mahmut. Huvat asked Halit who had given him permission to take on Mahmut’s protection, then scolded Atiye for introducing such a custom to their household. Between his two sons, he complained, he never stood a chance of correcting his own children. While he was complaining, Mahmut flung open the door and fled. Several times Huvat yelled after him that no monster, let alone Bil Kit, could get away from him. Unable to take his anger out on Mahmut, he berated Halit for failing to bar the door. He also raged at Atiye for having given birth to a boy like Mahmut. Then, settling into his corner, he announced that he was going to correct Mahmut and that furthermore he would disown anyone else who tried to touch him.
First Huvat burned Mahmut’s books and mask, then buried the two toy guns in the back garden. Next he went to the hodjas for advice: would his son naming himself Bil Kit entail a sin for Huvat? Greatly distressed, he returned home and asked Halit to find Mahmut and fetch him back. When he found Mahmut sitting by himself on the park railings, Halit pleaded with him and finally marched him home. As Mahmut entered apprehensively, Huvat assured his son that he had no cause to be afraid. He, his father, was simply going to rename him. First he asked Mahmut to kiss his mother’s hand and that of his elder brother. Mahmut bowed his head and did as he was told. Finally Huvat proffered his hand, and Mahmut kissed it and knelt down before him. He recited three prayers with his father, one after the other, following which Huvat leant down to his son’s ear and repeated three times, ‘Your name is Mahmut.’ ‘My name is Mahmut,’ Mahmut confirmed, then he stood up and went over to sit beside Halit, who sheared off Mahmut’s hair with a pair of clippers, transforming him back into a dear, sweet boy.
As a dear, sweet boy, however, Mahmut was left without a job. Seizing upon this opportunity, and the fact that Halit had been sitting around idly, Seyit started to sing his old song about forming a company again. Mahmut no sooner found out about this than he forgot all his father’s advice. He informed his elder brother that, as far as he was concerned, anyone who even suggested that he begin work as an apprentice to a central-heating installer would find that he had died in his sleep one night and be headed straight for the netherworld. He announced that he would never work on a construction site, even if it meant he had to grovel in misery. Every time he even heard the word ‘construction’, his hands and knees trembled as if possessed by djinns.
Huvat decided to straighten out his son by imposing starvation on him for daring to disobey his father and his elder brothers. He warned Seyit not to meddle with Mahmut or provoke him. Then he forbade Mahmut from eating at home and cut off his pocket money, declaring that he would disown any child of his who took pity on Mahmut. And if Atiye tried using Mahmut’s tears as an excuse, he would repudiate their marriage vows forever. Having had his say, Huvat gathered up his green books and withdrew to his corner.
Stubbornly rising to events, Mahmut now changed his name to ‘Superman’. He zoomed up to children hunched over their games of marbles in the park and soared right over their heads, snatching up the coins that were stuck in the earth. When two of the boys caught up with him, he fought them off, bloodying the nose of one and the mouth of the other. In a short time he had struck terror into the hearts of all the boys who went to the park to play marbles. Appointing two assistants, one named Tarzan and the other Zorro, he devised a signal out of one long whistle and two short ones and designated the bottom of the park fountain as their place for exchanging messages. He gave himself the job of distracting the park keeper while the other two swooped down on the children. The children retreated to their doorsteps and inside a week the park was deserted. After that, Mahmut’s gang went out onto the streets, and word began to spread that Mahmut had taken the name ‘Superman’. Huvat, his green books tucked under his arm, set out to track him down. To all the boys he met he passed on the same message: ‘Tell him to come home and have his dinner.’ So Mahmut broke up his gang, returned home and immediately devoured a huge potful of food. Still swearing, Huvat ordered Mahmut to sit at his knees and pronounced in his ear three times over, ‘Your name is Mahmut.’ After Huvat recited prayers, Mahmut arose and went around, kissing hands. Seyit took advantage of the situation by announcing that Mahmut would start work at the construction site the very next day. No sooner had Mahmut heard this than he felt weak all over and began to shake violently. ‘Cut out the tricks, man!’ Seyit growled and, sneering that nobody was fooled by his trembling, he lunged at Mahmut, got him into a headlock and threw him on the floor. Atiye flew over to crouch beside Mahmut, while Huvat told Seyit that it was wrong to intimidate his brother. Shoving Atiye aside, Mahmut jumped up, cursing all companies past and future, then walked out slamming the door with a bang behind him. He sat down on the landing with his back against the wall, but when he heard Seyit’s voice he got quickly to his feet, set up the ladder and climbed up to sit on the roof tiles. Overcome by his rage, he started crying. Then, as he cooled down a little, he shrugged off his sorrow and, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, gnashed his teeth. ‘Bastards!’ he said. As he sighed and lifted his head the stars pricked him with their pins, so he shut his eyes.
After he had despaired of Mahmut, Seyit dragged his crippled left leg along with Halit down to the coffee-house. He spoke at great length, convincing Halit that, if he were willing to take part, Seyit would promise to make him manager of the company. As soon as Halit learnt that he would only have to work in the beginning and that once the company was set up he could sit back at his desk as a manager, he made up his mind to join Seyit. Seyit swore to make Halit a master of his trade in less than two months and predicted that, if they joined forces, they would be able to get the work tools together once again and start taking on contracts. Seyit felt so pleased that he could hardly contain himself. Instead of sleeping he sat up in bed for days at a time, calculating how much he would have to spend on tools and in what order he would have to buy them. He also added to his calculations the cost of the c
oat with the far collar he was going to buy for Atiye.
In love with the prospect of a future managerial position, Halit followed Seyit’s lead and started to work. He got along without any difficulties for a while, embarrassing his father, who had sworn that he would never stick to his promise. His mother was pleased, however. Atiye blew her prayers after Halit, who jumped out of bed at her first call in the morning, and begged God to keep him from straying away from work. But soon Halit forgot about the oaths he had made and came home at noon one day with his hands over his face and said simply, ‘Isn’t there any way in this world you can become a manager without having to work?’ Beating her knees, Atiye sat beside her son and offered him all manner of advice, to which Halit proved unreceptive. He glowered at her without uttering a word and ignored everything she said.
Seyit came home with a long face that evening. He withdrew to a corner with his eyes downcast. Knowing this was a sign that Seyit was about to explode, Atiye fussed over him, hoping to calm him down. But the more she tried, the more deeply he grunted in exasperation. Meanwhile, Halit, feigning a splitting headache, got up to leave. But Seyit stood up and confronted him. ‘Either you work, my lion,’ he growled, ‘or take your wife and kid and leave this house!’ Lowering his green books, Huvat rose angrily to his feet. Pulling Seyit away from his elder brother, he ordered him to sit down. Only he, Huvat, could throw anyone out of this household. Not only did he blame Seyit, but Huvat also announced that if Seyit refused to kiss his elder brother’s hand and beg his forgiveness he would be committing a great sin. Seyit swore that, even if he knew he would roast forever in hell’s furious flames, he would never kiss his brother’s hand. Then he went on to proclaim that if anyone’s hand should be kissed it should be his. He defiantly turned a deaf ear to Huvat’s recitation of the Prophet’s holy sayings on the great sin of opposing one’s elder brother, and threatened to set up the company on his own. Then he wouldn’t even deign to look at them when he was rich. ‘If only!’ Atiye spat back, as Huvat fell silent, aware at last that all his words were in vain.
After that, Seyit changed his mind about the name of his prospective company. Instead of ‘The Three’, he chose ‘Technical Concerns’ as the new name, deciding that his best course would be to form a partnership with an outsider. Before looking for a partner, however, he found himself a job so he could afford to reclaim his lost tools. Quickly realizing that he wouldn’t be able to form his company by following a straight path, he went down the crooked one instead. By stealing radiators, pipes and clamps from construction sites and selling them here and there, in less than two months he had bought back his electric welder and pipe wrenches, which he stored out on the landing. Dragging his left leg, he climbed happily to the top of scaffolding or busied himself around huge boilers. One day he screamed when he received an electric shock that knocked him face down onto an angle iron. Hot blood gushed from his mouth onto the cold metal. For some time he lay where he had fallen, racked by continuous spasms. Then, in horror, he shoved his trembling hands into his mouth but could feel no teeth. His heart smouldering painfully, he picked up his teeth from among the angle irons and wrapped them up in his handkerchief, which he then placed in his breast pocket. He spat blood all the way home. When Atiye saw him covered in blood she screamed and dropped like a dead weight by the staircase, while Seyit, his hands over his mouth, stumbled over and collapsed on the divan behind it. He refused to show his face to anyone, falling asleep that day with his head still buried in the divan. While he was sleeping, Atiye felt around inside his clothes and removed the handkerchief from his pocket. She went over and dropped it in front of Halit, then grieved all night long, begging God to drive away the curse that was dogging her son.
From then on, Seyit kept his hand over his mouth and neither spoke to anyone nor laughed. For days he didn’t go out at all. Then one day he left silently and came back in a car. With one hand covering his mouth, one by one he carried down the tools that he had stowed away on the landing. Then he sold all the tools he had managed to obtain through work and thieving to buy himself a new set of teeth.
Halit began to feel deeply troubled after Atiye placed Seyit’s broken teeth before him. He was caught on the horns of a dilemma: to work or not to work. ‘I’ve got such a splitting headache,’ he complained on some days, and went to bed early, hiding himself under the quilts. At other times he picked a fight with Zekiye, then lost himself in weeping. Then one evening he stood in prayer like his father, intoning ‘Varahmatullah’. When the prayer was over, he went and sat down before his father’s knees. Huvat recited long prayers over Halit’s jaw, then stroked it with his hands as Halit prayed to God to purify his soul of all evil. Then he begged God’s permission to grow a beard and don a black shalvar with a crotch that swept the ground. Finally he gathered everyone to his side and announced that he was now responsible to God for protecting them. In order to fulfil his duty properly and not to sin by envying the earthly comforts before him, he asked for only one thing: to take the edge off his appetite for such things, he wished to be granted a small portion of Zekiye’s earnings from the carpets.
In no time at all, Halit surpassed Huvat as a hodja. He spent all his time in the shop of Zekeriya the barber, who, like him, had grown a beard and donned a black shalvar after prayers. Ever since Zekeriya’s beard had touched his breast, he refused to offer his hand to his sisters, found it shameful to speak to his wife in front of others and would never sit in the presence of women. No longer did Halit pick up his journal full of pierced hearts and budding roses, which he used to lay on his knees and look at whenever he felt bored. The fruit of all this was that his voice mellowed and became more graceful, and he turned into a fine Muslim, with feet lighter than feathers, a beaming countenance and the searching gaze of an innocent child.
Huvat was convinced that the believer’s light radiating from his son’s face would be enough to brighten the path of the whole family. So, despite God’s command which Atiye had passed to him with a trembling tongue as her last testament, Huvat laid aside his green books. Instead, he gave himself over to water and began spending his time watching the sea from the ruins of a palace. Atiye was bewildered by her husband’s sudden interest in water after all these years. However, taking it as a passing fancy, she made no objection to his seaside visits. Huvat was so greatly enraptured by the sea that he couldn’t live out of sight of it. Atiye once more clutched her prayer beads, this time hoping to save her husband from his passion for water. Blowing holy words around, she begged God to restore her husband’s sanity. But the prayers she blew were blown back sourly in her face. Because Huvat could find no peace unless he saw water, each evening he brought home bottles filled with sea water and hung them up on the walls. He fixed his gaze on the bottles as he dozed off, and his eyes sought them out the moment they opened. Despite all of Atiye’s prayers, Huvat’s senses were inundated with sea water.
All he could talk about was how his huge body floated on the water without sinking, as white spray splashed up against him. Then he started going on about how he would grow a year younger each time his skin peeled off until he finally became immortal. Atiye regarded Huvat as guilty of both heresy and insanity and finally consigned him to Allah’s hands. Set free from Atiye’s ominous grumbling, Huvat bared the upper part of his body to the divine power of the sun and ran half-naked each morning from home to the palace ruins. A short while later his interests widened when he was captivated by the excitement of the young men playing football in the ruins. As a result, he bought himself a pair of narrow black pants with two white stripes down the legs, so while Halit donned his black shalvar, Huvat pulled on his tight, striped sweatpants. At home he either sat down to gaze at the water-filled bottles or endlessly listed in great detail the names of football teams, the players’ numbers and their club colours. On top of everything else, he would gather together bits of paper with little squares on them, take a pair of dice out of his pocket and throw them, and then fill in the tiny boxes
. From then on he ceased to communicate with his sons. No matter how hard they banged their fists on the doors, insisting that their father would be a laughing stock to everybody, he refused to talk to them, announcing that if he had to he wouldn’t mind sleeping rough among the ruins.
He also closed his ears to Atiye’s last wishes, when she once again fell ill, requesting that he wear a top and get rid of his infernal black and white striped pants. Huvat believed that Atiye’s only concern was to drive him to an early grave and so he remained deaf to her moans and mutterings as she lay with her eyes fixed on the ceiling. He explained that all those who lived without any means of viewing the sea actually led a meaningless existence. So if Atiye were to leave this world, well, that wouldn’t really be a loss, since her life wasn’t worth living anyway. Seared by his words, Atiye parted her hands as she prayed for her husband to be carried off by the waters, and shouted repeatedly after Huvat, ‘May the waters sweep you away!’ However, disregarding Atiye’s shouts, Huvat was swept along by his own tide.
Dirmit came to realize that her father had been going downhill from the day he lost his hat and that he had never really been the same since then. After thinking about this for days, she eventually shared her thoughts with the rest of the household, begging her elder brothers to take Huvat to the doctor again. But Huvat had no intention of complying. He brushed aside his children’s request, declaring that he had at last discovered the perfect cure and that he needed nothing more than water. Then he launched into a lengthy explanation that the stars that glittered in the sky were in fact scaly fish, that beneath the seas another world existed like this one and that human beings had sprung from water and would return to it. Finally he maintained that there was nothing wrong with him. He was still physically strong, still in his right mind, and they should just leave him alone. If it were ever to happen that he died somewhere far away, his one last wish was that they might take up his lifeless body and release it to the waters, although he had no doubts that his spirit would be embraced by them anyway. Then, having plunged everyone into despair over his future, Huvat sank back in his corner and settled his gaze on the bottles of sea water.